Fade
by Hamstercheese7
Summary: Garp is diagnosed with dementia and reflects on his life.


**One-shot: Fade**

* * *

The sun began its bright descent over the ocean as Garp sat in a chair on his porch. Children kicked a can down the street, laughing. One wore a bright yellow hat, catching his eye. The hat haunting in its familiarity.

Roger. The littlest things would trigger an avalanche of memories or a storm of blankness, and he never knew when they would hit. It was funny, he had never cared about what legacy he'd leave behind until now. How would the world remember him? Roger had left a legacy. One that went beyond blood. People called Garp a hero, but that wasn't something he'd chosen. It was a title that gave him safety, ability, freedom. It had always been a mask, but once he was gone, would it be the only face people saw?

* * *

_"Join my crew!" laughed the man laying in the mud after Garp had just pulled him from a river. He wore a straw hat and a smile as exuberant as the sun. _

_The man smiled brightly as he waved goodbye at Garp from his ship, Garp flipping him off from the prow of the Navy ship he stood on. _

_The man laughed on a ship as Garp punched him through a wall, the first time they clashed on the Grandline. _

_He laughed as he stood back to back with Garp, surrounded by pirates. _

_"Take care of my son Garp!" _

* * *

Dementia was strange. An enemy like no other. He couldn't fight it with his fists, instead it dragged him kicking and screaming back in time then dumped him back in the present, confusion like fog of war coating his reality like phlegm.

* * *

_It was morning in Goa Kingdom. The sun shone brightly through his window, a woman with wild black hair lay next to him, smiling at him, dark eyes gazing at him with such fondness he regretted having to leave her. But Roger had been sighted, and he needed to go. He pressed a kiss to her swollen belly, and left. _

He blinked, their bedroom was gone. He sat in a chair in an unfamiliar (or was it?) room. Anxiety clawed up his throat. The layout was right but where were the photos? Where were the flowers on the table? Where was…? He breathed out, the present returning to him down a long tunnel. There hadn't been flowers on the table in years. So long he'd forgotten that was something she used to do. She'd liked red ones the best. When he was gone, no one else would remember that.

* * *

Dementia took what it wanted. One week he was in the present, almost able to forget that he was on borrowed time. Then suddenly he was 50 years ago, smiling at his wife as she grinned at him the night he asked her to marry him, the day his son was born, the week he brought Luffy to live with Ace. Or it was a week prior.

And if he was honest, sometimes he craved them. Remembering the way Dragon used to jump on him when he'd come home from long stretches at sea. The way Ace and Luffy sounded when they slept. The way Roger laughed. Grief clasped around him like a vice.

The days blended together. The sun was setting, the village children were playing a game of Marines vs. Pirates. Their mock battles echoed loudly in the evening air. A face he knew yet older, more tired was walking towards him, a bottle of alcohol in his hand. "Kuzan," Garp called. The children were shouting to each other, the sound of an argument breaking out.

The tall man came and sat on his front steps. "Garp-san," he said. His voice was too light, strained. Garp hated it. "So, what brings you to East Blue?" Garp asked lightly. Kuzan smiled at him, a tad too gently. "I was in the area, figured I'd stop by," he said. "You're a terrible liar, boy," Garp laughed. Kuzan smiled but there was a brittleness to it. Garp sighed. "...Tsuru-chan told you huh?" Kuzan was quiet, but he pulled out a pair of sake cups from his pocket. Garp sighed.

It wasn't how he expected to go. It didn't help that Garp never thought he'd make it to this age in the first place. He had never chosen a way to die, but if he had been given the choice, this wasn't it. He watched Kuzan pour sake into the cups gently.

He thought he would die when fighting Roger. Fighting Shiki. Fighting Whitebeard.

He'd hoped he'd die at Marineford. Then again, he had kind of done that hadn't he?

* * *

_Where was Dragon? That damn boy was causing trouble again, and Garp wished his wife were there to help him handle the anger their son wielded like a sword. But she'd been gone for so long he couldn't recall the way her laugh sounded any longer. _

* * *

He hadn't told anyone, except Tsuru. She had found him in the bar he'd chosen to drink the news from his doctor in. She always had had some weird sense of when he needed her. If Garp was the force, Sengoku the brains, then Tsuru had always been the heart. He wondered if she had told Sengoku. He dreaded the answer either way.

Kuzan brought his cup to his lips. "...She wanted me to make sure you were keeping up the fight," he rubbed the back of his head. Garp laughed. What else was he to do? "And is that what you're here for?" he asked. "Nah, I'm here to drink with an old friend," Kuzan gave him a real smile this time. Garp took the cup of sake offered to him.

* * *

_It had been a few months since he'd seen the boys, he needed to make sure that the ship was packed with food. He should be able to snag it all without much trouble, the new cook assigned to his ship had yet to grow a backbone enough to stand up to him! _He got up from his bed, and found himself... in his living room? _Had he already made it to Goa? That would be good, then he wouldn't miss Ace's birthday. _He opened his front door but the weather was bright, sunny, warm. It should be cold, winter, with snow or frost on the ground. A woman with green hair was walking towards his house, a young child with red hair at her side. He stared as she approached.

* * *

"Do you want me to send a message to Straw Hat?" Kuzan asked him quietly as Garp reclined in his rocking chair, the cup of sake sitting in his hand. He hadn't seen Luffy in years, not since...his jaw ached. He turned his eyes on Kuzan. "He has his own adventures," Garp said quietly.

* * *

_"Garp-san…? Are you alright?" She looked like Makino's mother, but with the wrong nose. He knew everyone in Foosha, but he didn't know her. He eyed her. "Can I help you?" he asked. She had a basket full of food with her. It smelled good. Maybe she would give him some and he could bring it to the boys. _"I told you yesterday that I would see you for lunch," the woman said with a small frown. _Yesterday? He'd been out at sea yesterday, there was no way he'd made such plans. He stared at her suspiciously. _A strange sad look crossed her face. "Garp-san, it's me, Makino. It's time for lunch," she said softly with a small smile. _"Makino…? The only Makino I know is just a young girl…" he frowned. _The woman smiled softly at him, and something tugged at him. Her face was fuller, her hair longer. "Mama, doesn't he remember?" asked the child.

It punched him in the chest, and he stepped back from her. Young Makino and present Makino merging all wrong. It was summer now, and Ace was…

_Ace falling, Luffy screaming- _

He slammed the door and crumpled against it. Roger hadn't chosen family either, if he had, would he have ever left his wife and child? Garp hated how alike they were. He had chosen his career too.

* * *

_He loved his mother, she had made him strong, throwing him out to the forests to forage for food, making him beat the strange men who came to their house when they gave her trouble. "You have to be better, strong," she'd told him repeatedly while he dodged the blows she sent his way. He had to be different than his father is what she meant. He stared at her body on the kitchen floor. She'd forced him to hide in the hole under the floorboards when his father stormed in demanding money from her. "I'll be a better man than that Momma," he'd whispered to her. He'd jumped on a Navy ship not an hour later, and never looked back. _

* * *

Luffy wasn't like him, if Garp asked him, he'd come. And Garp was terrified he wouldn't recognize him. It was better this way, to fade away quietly. He wouldn't go out with a bang like Roger, like Whitebeard. Wouldn't place the burden of legacies on another soul, after all, he'd seen the damage that did firsthand.

The stars were out now. The children had run home to their families. Garp sat quietly, looking out at the ocean. How long would it be before he was just a memory to be forgotten too? Kuzan sat quietly next to him, their sake cups long empty.

* * *

**Notes:**

This is kind of a personal piece of fanfiction, my own father is fading away from dementia and I guess this is my own way of processing grief. Thank you for reading this. I would appreciate feedback on the layout, or whatever else you take from this piece.

You can also hit me up on twitter at buggyisbest


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